


The Garreg Mach Ball

by idanato



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, Garreg Mach Monastery (Fire Emblem), Gen, Making Out, Mild Language, Pre-Time Skip, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 20:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idanato/pseuds/idanato
Summary: Dorothea is hellbent on ensuring every Black Eagle dances at the Garreg Mach Ball, even Hubert, and even if it involves giving him a make-over.





	The Garreg Mach Ball

“Will you please stop sneaking up on me,” said Hubert without having to turn around. He knew only Shamir would be daring enough to keep trailing him like this. He was still trying to figure her out; she was definitely one of the more competent and dangerous knights of Seiros. Yet he had the unnerving feeling that she was messing with him for a laugh, and Hubert did not appreciate it.

“What do you do to people who sneak up on you?” Her voice was dry and deadpan as usual.

Hubert rolled his eyes, “I take them out with a spell.” One time he actually had almost cast Mire at her before realizing who was stalking him. He doubted she would find it very funny if he really did it.

She did seem slightly amused right now though, “Do you only use magic? I’ve heard you _like_ getting your hands dirty.”

Hubert stared at her for a few beats trying to understand what she was up to, “I do what needs to be done.”

“Well then I have something for you to do, come on,” she said grabbing his hand.

Hubert was surprised as she pulled him along the corridor towards the knight’s quarters. After everything that had happened with Jeritza and Flayn, the knights were understandably on edge. If Shamir truly was following him around she might have seen him slip up when conducting some secret business for Edelgard. If he was compromised, he could potentially warp away, but he’d have to find Edelgard to warn her, which complicated things. He hoped the other knights had not gotten to the princess first. Everything was always on the cusp of going to hell with this coup, and with each crisis Hubert solved, a new one inevitably appeared.

Shamir pushed him into a storage room and shut the door. Hubert looked back at her questioningly and she actually smiled. He was sure he had never seen her so much as crack a grin. Hubert felt caught off guard; this wasn’t an interrogation, at least not on the surface.

Hubert’s heart raced as Shamir kissed him. Hubert had never kissed a girl on more than the hand. _Definitely not an interrogation._

There wasn’t much speaking between them. Shamir moved fast and Hubert was having trouble anticipating what she was about to do, but he was not going to try to stop her. She seemed to have a very clear vision of what she wanted and Hubert was relieved to follow her lead. He had not been expecting this, but to be frank, Hubert had never expected anyone to just come onto him. He found Shamir plenty attractive, if not a bit intimidating, and he was not going to stop the first person to express any kind of intimate interest in him.

As they got into it Shamir took his hands and moved them up to her throat. “I want you to choke me,” she said breathlessly as she rubbed her hips against him.

“What?” He hadn’t misheard her, but he wished he had, “Why?”

“I like feeling scared,” she whispered seductively in his ear. “I don’t want to be sure if you’re going to kill me or not.”

Hubert pulled his hands back from her neck, “No.”

Shamir slowed down, “You’ve been threatening to take me out for months now, just do it.” When he didn’t comply she pushed his hands against the wall and glared at him, “Fight me off.” She was beginning to squeeze his wrists so hard his hands were going numb.

Things had just gone from heaven to hell for him as he gently pushed her off. It didn’t take much, she was rather petite, and he was not at all interested in fighting her. She hit him in the arm, lightly at first and then harder.

“What is wrong with you?” demanded Hubert as he looked at her incredulously.

“Wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” challenged Shamir.

“Can’t we do this, without the fighting?” He definitely did not wish to stop making out with her, but he had no interest in her weird game.

Shamir stared at him, “This is what I like.”

“That’s, that’s not me,” said Hubert softly. “There’s enough violence in my life already, I don’t want it mixing with this.”

Shamir was looking at him as if analyzing him. “So when you were threatening me, you weren’t trying to flirt.”

“Why would you think _that_ was flirting?” Hubert asked. _Did no one take his threats seriously?_

“We have a similar sense of humor,” shrugged Shamir. “I just thought you understood me.”

“Clearly not,” said Hubert under his breath.

Shamir folded her arms, “Well, if it’s not the thrill of danger, what does it for you?”

Hubert sighed in exasperation, “I don’t know. This is the sum total of my experience.”

Shamir turned bright red, “You’re joking, you’re what, twenty —”

He cut her off, “I’m not joking.” He gestured between them, “If you’ve really been watching me, I don’t know why you would think this was a regular occurrence.”

“You’re a complete sadist,” said Shamir confidently.

Hubert shook his head, “You have truly misread me.”

“You should probably go,” said Shamir uncomfortably.

“Maybe I could take you for tea first?” suggested Hubert, although as soon as the words left his mouth he was kicking himself for sounding so desperate. As far as he could tell, that seemed to be the most popular first date activity at Garreg Mach. Hubert had never taken tea with anyone, that would require friends.

Shamir looked at him with contempt, “I’m not interested in tea time.”

“Right,” whispered Hubert as he scrambled to leave. He felt dirty as he snuck out of the knights’ quarters. The feeling didn’t leave him as he got outside and aimlessly walked. As far as first kiss experiences went that had been pretty abysmal, but that seemed to be Hubert’s lot in life. He didn’t lean much towards self-pity, much of his adult life had been a product of his own choices, but this was a particularly sore spot for him. He didn’t fault Lady Edelgard for not being interested in him intimately. They had known each other since childhood, and their friendship was enough for him, but that did not mean he lacked basic human desires.

Hubert cursed internally. It figured that the only woman to ever find him attractive was interested in the one thing he didn’t want anywhere near his relationships: his proclivity towards violence. He had grown up watching his father lay hands on his mother, on him, on his siblings, and he had sworn to never be that person in his private life. However, perhaps once ones hands were soaked in blood they began to stain everything they touched. Hubert’s life was highly compartmentalized, and the idea of it all mixing together terrified him.

He made his way towards the dining hall hoping to find Lady Edelgard to at least take solace in her presence. Unfortunately the business with Shamir had made him late to dinner, and Lady Edelgard was already finished her meal. She appeared to be deep in conversation with Byleth. He sighed, at least one of them was enjoying some romantic success. Hubert reluctantly got his serving and found a distant quiet corner to eat alone in.

He wasn’t particularly hungry as he relived the moments with Shamir over and over again in his mind. He silently pushed the overcooked meat around his plate as it grew cold. He spied Flayn enthusiastically carrying out her kitchen duties and he suspected he wouldn’t enjoy the meal very much even if he could eat it.

“Hubert, you’re looking particularly melancholic this evening,” Dorothea announced as she sat down across from him.

Hubert couldn’t even muster a retort, let alone the scathing kind Dorothrea seemed to expect from him. She usually laughed at his jokes, which was nice of her, but he wasn’t feeling especially humorous. “Where’s your food?”

“Oh I already ate, I was just chatting with the ladies,” she gestured to the very full table of young women she’d come from. It seemed like half the young women of the officer’s academy were there cheerfully gossiping across house lines.

Hubert looked at her in confusion, “Then why are you here?”

Dorothea frowned, “I don’t like to see any Black Eagles eating alone. Unless it’s Lin, because he’s usually trying to take a nap.”

Hubert felt a tiny tug at his heart, _Were they friends now?_

Hubert put down his utensils, “Well, thank you. But I won’t waste your time, I’m probably just going to go.”

“I mean I don’t blame you for not eating when Flayn’s on duty, trust me, I used _a lot_ of salt and it did not help at all —”

“It’s not the food,” said Hubert. “I just don’t have an appetite.”

Dorothea looked concerned, “You do look a little pale. I mean more so than usual.”

“I’m fine,” said Hubert looking down at his plate. “I just had a very,” he paused wondering what the right word to use was, “Humiliating experience.”

Dorothea looked irate, “What happened? You need me to go set some fools straight?” She cracked her knuckles with as much menace as she could muster.

He knew she was kidding, but he appreciated the sentiment. “No, thank you. Why don’t you tell me what’s new with you, I could use a distraction.”

“Well,” Dorothea twirled a long lock of hair around her finger, “Mercedes and I are planning to give Ingrid a make over for the ball. We figured out that Sylvain has already asked four of us to the dance, and everyone is still beside themselves that Marianne was so good in the white Heron cup — like, I’m not even mad I lost she was so good.”

Hubert envied her happiness. He felt his own brief moment of reprieve slip away as Shamir entered the hall. Dorothea followed his stare and turned back to him, “Dare I ask, does Shamir have something to do with your current mood?”

Hubert looked around, they were pretty far from everyone else. “Shamir and I,” he paused, not really wanting to go into detail, “We had a major miscommunication.”

“What exactly did you do —”

“It doesn’t matter, it was an utter disaster,” whispered Hubert feeling all the blood rise up to his face. “She assumed I’d be interested in certain…things that I am not.”

“What kind of things?” demanded Dorothea.

“It’s not important,” said Hubert quickly. He rubbed his face in an effort to hide his emotions, but Shamir had managed to put a tiny crack in his static visage. The words poured out him painfully, “I know that I have a reputation that is, not good. Terrible even, but that doesn’t mean that’s who I want to be all the time. If by some miracle someone makes the mistake of falling in love with me, when I hold them in my arms, I want them to feel safe, not afraid.” The words had forced their way out and he could not put them back in.

Dorothea stared at him with a strange expression and Hubert was sure she was about to laugh at him. After a quick pause she leaned her chin against her fist and stared at him, “_Hubie_. That is the most romantic thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

Hubert flushed at her reaction, “Trust me, it was not what Shamir wanted to hear.”

“Well surely someone must,” insisted Dorothea. She bit her lip and he knew she was cooking up an idea he would probably not like. “Let me do some reconnaissance. I’m going to ask around to find out who people’s top three people they wish would invite them to tea would be.”

“I don’t like tea,” said Hubert stubbornly. He really didn’t want her to do this and confirm for him that no one was going to be asking him to tea.

Dorothea waved him off, “Please, I’m happy to find out. And then, you’ll know who you should ask to dance at the ball to maximize the chance they’ll say yes.”

Hubert had just made out with a masochist, the idea of asking a girl to dance at the ball seemed utterly pedestrian. Yet perhaps that was what he actually wanted, just something simple and innocent, not sloppy and confusing. “Alright,” he said reluctantly.

Dorothea clapped her hands with excitement, “Leave this to me Hubie.” She whipped out her notebook, “Okay, who are your top three girls, boys? Both? Who are you interested in?”

There was only one answer, and he suspected Dorothea already knew. “Lady Edelgard.”

“Obviously,” said Dorothea as she wrote _Edie_ with a little heart over the i. “And?”

“There’s no one else,” said Hubert stiffly.

“You have to name three people, those are the rules I just made up.” She wasn’t budging.

“Fine,” said Hubert with annoyance as he looked around the dining hall. He could care less about anyone from outside their house, and he wasn’t going to feed Dorothea’s ego by suggesting they go to tea together. “Petra,” that choice was easy; Petra was competent in the classroom and on the battlefield, and Hubert admired her greatly. He realized there was only one other option, “And Bernadetta?”

“Aw that’s so cute,” whispered Dorothea, clearly pleased by his answer.

Hubert had never been accused of being cute. “You’re not going to tell them right?” Hubert felt a unfamiliar panic seize him at the idea of Dorothea running her mouth. He was not above making threats to keep her silent.

“Absolutely not,” promised Dorothea.

“Bernadetta is literally afraid of my face,” said Hubert, feeling a distinct rise of shame in his chest. He was mortified that just catching the timid archer’s eyes was enough to make her faint. He had tried everything he could think of to not scare her, but so far his only solution was to avoid direct eye contact, minimize his speaking, and under no circumstances laugh or smile in her presence. He hardly saw that leading to a satisfactory tea time.

Dorothea rolled her eyes, “Bernadetta is afraid of most things. I saw her scream at a particularly large butterfly once.” She paused and gave him a reassuring look, “They may not be interested in you, but someone might be.”

“Doubtful,” said Hubert.

***

What had began as Dorothea innocently asking Petra and Bernadetta who they might enjoy taking to tea had rapidly spiraled into an academy wide poll in which she had sampled every single student, and even received unsolicited feedback from some of the faculty — apparently Manuela was quite interested in understanding Seteth better. Dorothea had struggled to figure out how she was going to present all the information, and had settled on a grid of names. If two people had named each other, she marked them in red as a match so they could both know, but if they didn’t match, she kept the interested party as an anonymous secret admirer. She had gathered data on the entire class; people seemed eager to know and somehow trusted her with their heart’s desires for love and friendship. It was a bit overwhelming to know everyone’s crush, but Dorothea figured this was not a bad burden to bear.

***

Dorothea had put the results of her survey on the bulletin board directly outside of the Black Eagles homeroom. Everyone was gathered around it trying to get a look at how they fared. Hubert had no choice but to pass it to get to class. Bernadetta was on her tiptoes trying to see. Hubert stopped beside her, careful not to make any direct eye contact lest he scare her.

“I don’t want to look, but I _really_ do,” complained Bernadetta. “Oh I just know this is going to be terrible.”

Hubert found her name quickly. “You have zero matches.”

Bernadetta pulled her hood up over her head, “Hubert, if you could just end me now, I’m ready to go.”

“You have two secret admirers,” finished Hubert as he continued to scan the chart. Hubert supposed that one of those admirers was him, not that he would ever tell her that. He wondered vaguely who the other was, and realized the mystery was the appeal of the whole setup.

Claude seemed to top the list, with Dimitri and Edelgard not far behind. Lady Edelgard had six secret admirers in addition to Hubert. He wondered if he could get Dorothea to divulge to him their identities. She’d probably balk at the breach of trust but Hubert also knew Dorothea loved gossip. He could probably work it out of her if he played it correctly. He was begrudgingly impressed by the amount of closely guarded secrets she’d managed to pry out of people; he'd have to ask her about her methods. 

Only a small number of students had actually matched with each other, but it seemed everyone had at least one secret admirer. Dorothea had omitted her own name, but Hubert suspected she’d be pretty high on the list.

“Two? Two secret admirers!” exclaimed Bernadetta. She was beside herself with surprise. “What about you Hubert?”

Hubert found his name at the very bottom. Zero matches, zero admirers. “Two less than you,” he said dryly as he walked towards the classroom to get away from all the excitement. He pulled out his reason textbook and tried to review but it was almost impossible to concentrate with all the chatter going on right outside the door.

The excitement over the chart did not die down once classes had started; it just turned into fervent speculative whispering. Hubert was grateful that no one was bringing up his lack of admirers, but he was annoyed how totally consumed everyone seemed by it. The fact that Lady Edelgard hadn’t even named him in her top three people to have tea with stung Hubert far more than he had been expecting. At lunch she was busy fretting about having named the professor, but Dorothea hadn’t included Byleth in the chart, meaning that Edelgard had no idea if they were a match. Hubert daydreamed about the various ways he could take the professor out of the equation while Lady Edelgard went on. Apparently she also wanted to have tea with Dorothea, and Lysithea, which Hubert could not comprehend. _She’s basically a child and not even in our house!_

“It’s too bad you don’t like tea Hubert, it’s such a lovely time to just relax and converse,” sighed Edelgard dreamily.

Hubert did his best to not appear hurt, “Is the tea part necessary? I can converse while drinking coffee.”

“Oh, I suppose you could do that,” said Edelgard reluctantly. “Though it’s important to start by sharing your reaction to the tea —”

“I don’t like tea,” said Hubert under his breath. _Why is everyone at this school obsessed with this inferior beverage?_

“I know, that’s why we don’t go to tea together,” grumbled Edelgard with annoyance.

***

“Hubie, I am so sorry,” said Dorothea. She had finally caught him alone after he’d been avoiding her for the past few days. Yet today was the ball and he had let his guard down long enough that she had managed to corner him.

“You just confirmed what I already knew,” said Hubert indifferently. He really didn’t wish to dwell on it.

“I wasn’t going to post it, but people got so interested,” she said apologetically. “I should have just left your name off --”

“It’s fine, really,” said Hubert. “I’m not going to the ball anyway.”

Dorothea stared at him, “You’re… not… going? But who will stop Sylvain from bothering Edelgard to dance?”

“Lady Edelgard shall dance with whomever she wishes,” said Hubert. If he wasn’t there to see it, there was no way for him to be jealous. He also trusted that Edelgard had enough taste not to dance with Sylvain.

Dorothea’s face fell, “This is my fault.”

“It is not,” said Hubert in a matter of fact tone. “I have no desire to go. Anyway, now I know I won’t be missed, so what difference does it make?”

“You can’t just spend the whole night alone in your room,” argued Dorothea.

“I won’t be,” said Hubert. He was a little annoyed that she felt he had nothing better to do than wallow in loneliness. “I’m going to walk to the village, have a drink, and walk back.” It was a simple plan but it would kill a good chunk of time. He might sneak into the Goddess Tower to booby trap the place if he was feeling vindictive, but Hubert suspected that he was just going to enjoy the emptiness of Garreg Mach that evening and retire early.

“Oh,” was all Dorothea could manage. He walked away before she could say any more about it.

***

Dorothea was supposed to be helping Mercedes and Annette prepare Ingrid for the ball, but Ingrid had fled before Dorothea had gotten there. Dorothea found herself on Mercedes bed while Annette sat on the floor sorting out the best makeup for Ingrid’s complexion.

Mercedes came back in and looked disappointed, “I can’t find Ingrid anywhere. I’m pretty sure she’s hiding from us.”

“These secret admirers, are they from my house?” Annette had already tried several questions trying to discern the identities of her admirers. Annette and Mercie had of course picked each other for a tea date, but that wasn’t the kind of romantic match Annette was looking for.

“Two of them are,” said Dorothea.

“Ugh Dorothea, how are you possibly keeping all these secrets?” Annette seemed more than a little frustrated that Dorothea wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

Dorothea had kept everything in a notebook that was now safely tucked away beneath her pillow. “I have to keep it secret, how would you like me to tell Dedue how much you want to —”

“Okay I understand!” said Annette while blushing fiercely. “I mean this was a great idea, but how did you even come up with it?”

Dorothea sighed, “At first I was just trying to figure out who I could get to dance with Hubert at the ball.”

Annette giggled, “Why on earth were you doing that?”

“Well I want everyone in my house to get at least one dance in,” said Dorothea. She, Petra, Ferdinand, and Edelgard would likely be dancing all night. She had roped Caspar into making sure Bernadetta and Linhardt would dance at least once, but even Caspar wasn’t brave enough to force Hubert anywhere near the dance floor. “But then it just got bigger and bigger and everyone wanted to know what I found out. But when I crunched the numbers, no one wanted to take Hubert to tea.”

“Well can you blame us? He’s definitely the worst person in your house, and maybe the whole academy,” said Annette defensively. “And anyway, I don’t even think he likes tea.”

“I’m the worst friend ever,” said Dorothea miserably as she stared at the ceiling of Mercedes room.

Annette raised her eyebrow, “Well, it’s not like Hubert has any friends to compare you to. So maybe it’s not that bad?”

Dorothea shut her eyes wishing she knew how to fix things.

Annette sighed, “Well if Ingrid isn’t coming back, I’m going to run to the library to try to get some extra studying in.”

“Annie, so diligent,” said Mercedes as she sat down on the bed next to Dorothea. Annette piled her things back into her back and then nearly tripped as she got out of the doorway.

Mercedes idly braided Dorothea’s hair while humming, “Well I’m sorry your plan backfired. It was a very nice surprise for everyone else though if that makes it any better. Ignaz was so adorable trying to figure out who his secret admirer is, I think you really made his day.”

Dorothea was happy about how happy everyone else was, but she felt personally responsible for Hubert deciding not to go to the ball at all.

“Mercie, Hubert said one of the most romantic things I think I’ve ever heard, like straight from an opera. For all his menacing, he’s shockingly sweet. I just wish everyone else could see what I see,” said Dorothea.

Mercedes paused her braiding, “What if instead of Ingrid, we made over Hubert?”

Dorothea’s eyes shot open, “Are you serious?”

“Well not with make-up, but maybe a haircut?” suggested Mercedes.

“Mercie, that’s maybe the best idea I’ve ever heard,” said Dorothea excitedly. “Can I bring him here?”

Mercedes nodded and Dorothrea practically sprinted up to the second floor dormitory. She burst into his room to find him reading.

“Hubert,” she caught her breath, “You need to come with me.”

Hubert looked at her like she was crazy, “I really don’t.”

Dorothea grabbed his hand and started to march him back to Mercedes room, “No please, I have to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” protested Hubert as she pulled him along.

He stared at Mercedes and the chair. She looked too cheerful with her sheers, and Hubert looked doubtfully at Dorothea, “I’m sorry, what is happening here?”

“We’re going to make you over,” said Dorothea enthusiastically.

Hubert turned to leave and Dorothea jumped into the doorway to stop him. Hubert glared at her, “I will truly regret killing you to get out of here, but I am leaving.”

“Just a haircut couldn’t hurt,” suggested Mercedes as she snipped the air with the sheers.

Hubert didn’t particularly like his hair, but he wasn’t keen on having it cut by these two silly girls. His hair was a shield that helped to hide him. He looked at Dorothea splayed out blocking the doorway with a look of fierce determination on her face. Hubert sighed, “If I let you do this, can you promise this is the last time you try to ‘help’ me?”

Dorothea nodded, “Is that a yes?”

Hubert begrudgingly took a seat. In the worst case scenario his hair would grow back eventually.

Mercedes ran her fingers through his wavy black hair, “Do you want to keep the length?”

Long hair was common amongst nobles, and Hubert’s father had made him grow his out. He rather resented it, but it was easy to maintain. Hubert shrugged, “I can go shorter.” He paused, “But not the bangs, those stay.”

Mercedes pushed his hair out of his face and looked at him. Hubert didn’t like making eye contact with Mercedes, it was always like she was seeing into his soul. She looked concerned, “They cover the whole side of your face.”

That had been the entire point of them at first. Keeping his hair in front of the bruises was easier than having to explain them. Hubert’s father hadn’t hit him there since he got too tall to reach, but the bangs had stayed.

He broke away from her stare, “I guess they can be a bit shorter, but not gone.” He wasn’t ready to completely yield away his shield.

“I can work with that,” smiled Mercedes. She gently guided his head to look down so she could start with the back.

Dorothea produced a nail file, “Can I give you a manicure?”

“No,”

“Please? I’ve never even seen your hands, you’re always wearing gloves,” protested Dorothea.

Hubert glared at her, “Precisely why I don’t need a manicure.”

Dorothea surprised him by plucking one of the gloves straight off his hand. Hubert reflexively made a fist, “Wait.”

Dorothea had seen though, “Hubert, what happened to your hands?” She eased his fist open to look at the faded lines running across the front and back of his hand and the nails compulsively bitten down to the beds when he was stressed. He’d been extremely stressed by the coming coup, and his nails were currently tattered, pathetic stumps.

Dorothea’s fingers lightly traced the scars trying to understand what they could be from. Hubert reluctantly put his exposed hands next to each other to show her where the lines met, “My father was strict about discipline. He preferred a rod.”

Dorothea looked horrified. He hoped for her sake she never saw the rest of him. Hubert took his gloves back and safely hid away his hands once more.

“Maybe a manicure isn’t the best idea,” suggested Mercedes to break the incredibly awkward silence.

Dorothea got up, “Okay, no manicure, but I think the three of us should do facials.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” said Mercedes as she began to work on his bangs.

Hubert had no idea what that was going to entail but Dorothea was suddenly off with a basin. Hubert was pretty sure he had never had a conversation with Mercedes beyond the simple introductions at the start of the school year, and now it was just the two of them. All he knew was that she was a decent enough healer, and very devout. Hubert wasn’t one for starting small talk so he just kept quiet.

She continued to hum what Hubert assumed was a hymn. “You know Hubert I never realized what a lovely shade of green your eyes are.”

“Thank you?” No one had ever really complemented anything about his appearance.

“Oh dear,” whispered Mercedes. It was not what Hubert wanted to hear when someone was cutting his hair. Mercedes bit her lip and snipped a bit more, “Oh well that didn’t help at all.”

“Maybe that’s enough,” suggested Hubert desperately. His bangs now just barely fell past his eye.

“Let me know if you want me to fix anything,” said Mercedes as she backed up nervously.

Hubert got up to look in the mirror. He looked very different, but he liked it. It was a strange sensation to him to actually feel genuinely good about an aspect of his appearance.

Mercedes looked conflicted, “I’m sorry about the bits standing up, I think I went too short right there.” The hairs were standing up looking distinctively like horns; Hubert loved it.

Hubert ruffled his bangs a bit, “It’s good. It feels much lighter. Thank you.”

Mercedes tugged at her own hair, “Really? I’m glad you like it. I’ve been thinking about going short too.”

Dorothea came back in with a steaming hot basin of water. “Oh my goodness, Hubie! Mercie you did such a good job.” She prepared a towel with the hot water, “Okay, so we’re going to warm up our faces, and put on this cream.”

Hubert felt ridiculous as she helped to lather it onto him. She placed two cool slices of cucumber over his eyes. “What is this supposed to do?”

“It helps with the dark circles,” insisted Dorothea.

Hubert was pretty sure only more sleep would help him with those, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.

“I think they just make a good snack afterward,” said Mercedes as she put some over her own eyes.

After they washed it all off Hubert did find that his face did feel better than usual. His usual pallid look had been replaced with someone who seemed a little brighter and healthier. His bony cheeks still cut a grim line, somehow he didn’t look as harsh.

Dorothea looked at her watch, “Okay so now we’ll pick out what you’re wearing —”

Hubert held a hand up, “Why do you assume I’m going to the ball after this?”

Dorothea looked crest fallen, “But, you look so good now.”

“And I thank you both for making that happen,” said Hubert.

Dorothea folded her arms and looked ready to make her stand, “If you won’t go then I won’t go either.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” said Hubert. “It’s the only thing you’ve been talking about for months.”

Mercedes awkwardly interjected, “You can’t really force him to go.”

“Watch me,” challenged Dorothea. He admired her tenacity, it would remind him of Edelgard if Dorothea wasn’t dedicating herself to something so trivial.

Hubert turned to Mercedes and politely bowed, “Thank you very much for the haircut and the face thing, but I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He effortlessly moved Dorothea to the side and walked back towards his room.

He could hear her heels clicking on the cobblestones behind him. She followed him all the way to his room. “You’re being ridiculous,” he said as he unlocked his door.

Dorothea followed him in uninvited. Hubert stared at her as if he could will her to leave. She sat at his desk with her arms crossed, “I’m not being ridiculous. I just want all of the black eagle house to have a good time tonight.”

“You shouldn’t predicate your own happiness on that of others,” warned Hubert. It was something he knew uncomfortably well. “Did you ever consider that I might be happier not going to the ball?”

The look on her face suggested that such a thought had never crossed her mind. She seemed honestly upset, and that was a rather novel concept for Hubert who was unaccustomed to people wanting him around. Dorothea frowned, “You know if you don’t go I’m going to be miserable the entire night thinking about it.”

He sighed, it was just one night and he didn’t want to ruin it for her. “I’m not dressing up,” he said as he rummaged through his closet for some appropriate clothes.

“Are you just trying to trick me,” started Dorothea.

“No. Please, get out of my room. I’ll escort you to the ball so that you’re sure I’m going,” promised Hubert.

Dorothea looked relieved, “Finally! Hubie, we’re going to have so much fun.”

Hubert very much doubted that.

***

Dorothea looked ready to captivate the attention of the entire room. Hubert had to admit she knew very well what she was doing when it came to changing appearances. He wondered if she had any professional interest in using such a skill, between that and her uncanny ability to gather information he thought she’d make a brilliant spy for the empire.

“I have it on good authority that Manuela is spiking the punch,” said Dorothea as they walked to the great hall.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all night,” said Hubert with relief. Perhaps he would get his drink after all.

“Hubie, can I tell you a secret,” whispered Dorothea. He nodded, and she sighed wistfully, “I’m planning on taking the professor to the Goddess Tower.”

That caught Hubert a little off guard. He suspected Lady Edelgard had the same idea, along with a few other students. “I wish you luck, our professor seems to be quite popular.”

“Thanks,” said Dorothea. “Maybe you should take Edie up there yourself.”

Hubert made a disgruntled sound, “Please don’t tell me that was your plan the whole time.”

“No, I never imagined I get this far with you to be honest,” said Dorothea. “I just think you should tell her how you really feel about her. Maybe not tonight, but someday.”

“It would be completely inappropriate for me to say something like that that to her,” warned Hubert. He had no words to tell Edelgard the depths of his affections. His feelings also wouldn’t change the fact that she was going to be Empress of Adrestia, and he was a mere servant.

“Suit yourself Hubie,” shrugged Dorothea as they got to the ballroom.

Hubert looked at the identical row of punch bowls. He glanced towards Manuela, “Which punch are you drinking tonight?”

Manuela toasted with her glass and gave him a sly smile, “This one, but I warn you, if you have too much you might end up in my infirmary later.”

Hubert took a sip and was surprised by his involuntary grimace, “Is this just mixed with straight grain alcohol?”

“Special request from Jeralt,” hiccuped Manuela.

Hubert shrugged and took another drink. Manuela was a little closer than he was comfortable with, “Did you get a haircut?”

“I did,” said Hubert as he slowly edged away from her.

“Well if you do come by the infirmary, I might have to do a full physical,” winked Manuela.

Hubert filled his glass and got the hell away from the drunken professor. The black eagles were all seated together. He heard Edelgard audibly gasp as he sat down.

“Hubert,” she began staring at him wide eyed. “What did you do to your hair?”

“Mercedes cut it,” said Hubert, as if that were a completely normal occurrence. “Do you like it?”

Caspar gave him a thumbs up across the table. Ferdinand was shaking his head with disapproval at Hubert’s informal appearance. Linhardt was literally asleep. Edelgard made her face neutral, “I like it if you like it.”

“I do,” said Hubert as he tried to gauge Petra and Bernadetta’s reaction. Petra was not paying attention, but Bernadetta seemed to have slightly less fear in her eyes than usual. That was promising, perhaps he would actually dance with someone tonight after all.

In the end, Hubert did not dance with Edelgard, Petra, or even Bernadetta. He had talked with Manuela over punch quite a bit and had decided that she was in fact harmless, if not hilarious. He watched as Edelgard stammered out a request to dance with Byleth, who agreed. He supposed the professor could live another day for having not humiliated the imperial princess. Petra was constantly being asked to dance, and Hubert dared not cut in since she appeared to be having such a wonderful time. He decided to only intervene if Sylvain approached her. Bernadetta had been carried to the dance floor at some point by Caspar, and had fled immediately after. Dorothea had not at any point stopped dancing, and he admired her stamina.

Hubert, perhaps emboldened by Maneula’s punch, set aside his pride for a moment and turned to his least favorite member of his house, “Ferdinand, may I ask for your help with something?”

Ferdinand regarded him suspiciously, “If it is illegal I would like no part —”

“No, I would like you to teach me about,” Hubert took a deep breath knowing how painful it would be to admit this to Ferdinand, “_Tea_.”

“Is this some sort of joke?” started Ferdinand.

“Not at all, you are the most knowledgeable person I know on the subject,” said Hubert as he humbly submitted to von Aegir's single area of expertise. “I do not have a taste for it, but I would like to understand these tea parties everyone is always going on about.”

Ferdinand sighed, “Very well Hubert, I would be remiss if I refused to help you on this quest to be more tolerable.” He folded his arms, “We begin with Angelica blend on Monday.”

Hubert hadn’t the faintest idea what Ferdinand was talking about, but he agreed all the same.

As the night drew to a close, Hubert watched as Edelgard shyly walked out of the ballroom with the professor in the direction of the Goddess Tower. He sighed as he watched them go. He looked back at where Dorothea had just finished dancing with Ferdinand. He watched the warm elation fading from her face as she searched the room, surely looking for Byleth. The music was beginning for the last dance.

Dorothea had already turned down a few offers to dance, still searching out Byleth, but she was beginning to look stranded in the sea of couples.

Hubert got up and deftly crossed the room to her. He knew he surprised her as he took her hands to start dancing. She looked up at him, “Hubie? What are you doing?”

“The professor already left with someone else,” said Hubert quietly as he tried his best to avoid her feet. “I’m sorry.” Lady Edelgard had tried to teach him how to dance multiple times, but he’d never gotten very good at it.

“So much for my plan,” said Dorothea sadly. She was trying to sound upbeat but Hubert could hear the sting of rejection in her voice.

“It was an admirable plot,” said Hubert as he narrowly missed bumping into the couple next to them.

Dorothea looked incredibly disappointed, for which Hubert could not fault her. He was a poor consolation prize to end the evening with.

A surprising number of couples were leaving the dance together, no doubt encouraged by Dorothea’s chart. She seemed to be noticing it too. She continued to steal glances in the direction of the Goddess Tower. Hubert felt her pain acutely as he imagined Edelgard and Byleth together up there. Hubert was relieved when the music finally ended.

Hubert spied Manuela snoring at one of the tables, and took Dorothea by the hand, “Come on, the Goddess Tower is just superstitious nonsense.”

“What are you,” Dorothea’s voice trailed off as Hubert freed Manuela’s hidden flask from beneath the table and pocketed it. He led Dorothea out the door but instead of turning towards the dormitories Hubert led her out towards the bridge.

“Give me that flask,” ordered Dorothea as they found a spot with a good view of the cathedral in the moonlight. She took a drink and made a face. “Well this is not how I pictured my evening going.”

Hubert agreed, “I’m sorry things didn’t work out. I hope you had a good time with the rest of the ball.”

Hubert was not prepared for her to rest her head against his shoulder and begin to sob. Her normally bubbly voice seemed incredibly small, “I feel so stupid for thinking that maybe the professor was interested in me.”

Hubert took a drink from the flask and grimaced at the burning in his throat. “You’re _not_ stupid, she’s hard to read. I honestly don’t really understand her appeal but, I seem to be in the minority on that.”

“I just feel like she somehow knows me better than I know myself. At first it felt like she was looking straight into me, and seeing the attention seeking and selfish person that I am,” Dorothea struggled to get the words out. “But she accepts that part of me.”

“Selfish?” Hubert could barely wrap his head around Dorothea’s distorted self image. “You just spent days trying to make me feel better, and went to a great deal of trouble to make sure I had a good time at the ball. Why do you think that you’re selfish?” The fact that she thought that was actually making him angry for her, “You’re always making sure that your friends feel special.”

Dorothea wiped her nose, “I always put myself first, only then do I start to think about other people.”

“That’s called being human,” argued Hubert.

“That’s not how you are with Edie,” challenged Dorothea.

Hubert took another drink as he thought about it, “That’s true, but, my decision to serve Lady Edelgard is, complicated.”

“You’re completely devoted to her, even when you know she’s interested in someone else,” said Dorothea as she took the flask off of him. “I don’t understand how you can live with a one sided love like that. I’m just getting a taste of it tonight and I feel like my heart has been ripped in two.”

Hubert didn’t know if he had the words to explain his heart. “I love her, true, but it’s alright with me that she’s romantically interested in someone else. That’s not what I’m hoping to achieve with her. You think it’s one sided, but it’s not. I meet her needs now, and supporting her vision for the future will eventually give me what I need.”

Dorothea listened to him, and had another drink. She wiped her eyes, “I honestly don’t understand the two of you.” Dorothea studied him in the moonlight, “What are you going to do if Edie gets married to someone else?”

“I’ll be happy for her,” said Hubert softly but honestly.

“How is that future that meets your needs?”

Hubert wondered how much was wise to share with Dorothea. She had personally suffered for lack of a crest, and at the hands of the nobility. If anyone was likely to sympathize with Edelgard from their house, it was Dorothea. He could probably trust a very vague version of what was to come with her.

“Lady Edelgard will someday soon ascend to take her father’s throne,” said Hubert. He felt especially impassioned by the liquor. “The things that she plans to do are highly personal to me, and everything I do is to bring those dreams to reality. Even if it means forgoing a romantic relationship with her, or anyone else for that matter. This is the level of my commitment to this future.”

“You would be a good opera writer,” said Dorothea as she laid back to look at the stars.

“Those would be some tragic operas,” mused Hubert as he joined her.

“The tragic ones are always the best ones,” said Dorothea. She nuzzled her head up against his shoulder, “Thanks for not letting me be alone. I think I’d be sobbing in my room if you hadn’t drug me here.”

“Someday, someone is going to love you more than you think you deserve,” promised Hubert. He intertwined his fingers with hers to give her hand a gentle squeeze, “But you’ll be wrong, because you will be completely deserving of it.”

Dorothea propped herself up with one arm to look down at him, “Seriously, I would act in that opera in a heartbeat, you need to start writing it.” She sighed and looked at him with a mix of curiosity and sadness, “If you married someone, do you think you could ever love that person even half as much as you love Edie?”

Hubert didn’t see himself getting married. He couldn’t tell Dorothea what was on the horizon, but there was a non-zero chance of him dying in the coming war. He contemplated her question though as he tried to imagine the future after the war. He had no idea how long it would go on, but if Edelgard succeeded in bringing her dreams to fruition, Hubert’s personal desires for justice would be sated, and Edelgard would not have as great a need for him. He would be able to attend to the needs of someone else who might even return his affection.

“I don’t think love is a finite resource,” said Hubert. “I know I couldn’t right now, but someday, I think I could love another person as much as I love Lady Edelgard.”

Dorothea was looking at him bemused. Hubert frowned, “What?”

“I’m just imagining how no one will believe me when I tell them what an impossibly romantic softy you are,” sighed Dorothea.

“I’m not romantic,” Hubert chuckled, “I think I might actually just be drunk.”

Dorothea saluted him with the flask before finishing it, “Me too.”

Hubert was glad she was done crying. He knew her hurt wasn’t gone, but it seemed a little bit healed. Hubert sat up, “Hey, do you want to come mess up the Blue Lions’ homeroom with me?”

Dorothea grinned, “What did you have in mind?”

“I think I’m going to rearrange all their tables, and turn all their banners backwards,” said Hubert. “Then I’m going to write 'fear the deer' on their chalkboard.”

“You’re the worst,” Dorothea laughed. She bit her lip as an idea lit up her green eyes, “Can I remove all their book marks?”

“Absolute not,” said Hubert. “You have to move them all just slightly ahead.”

“We should also mess with our own homeroom, so as to throw off suspicion,” suggested Dorothea as she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Devious,” said Hubert as he got up. He swayed as he pulled her up and they continued to trade ideas of what they were going to do. They ended up barricading the Blue Lions lectern behind a wall of flipped tables and books. Dorothea had meticulously moved every single book mark she could find.

“I’ve decided that Ferdinand is a bee, and you Hubert von Vestra, are a hedgehog,” declared Dorothea.

Hubert scrunched up his face, “A _hedgehog_?”

“See you even look like one,” laughed Dorothea as she drew a deer on the chalk board. It looked absolutely terrible. No one was going to believe that the house with Ignatz in it had done this prank. 

“Why do I have to be a hedgehog, can’t I be a crow, or a scorpion, even a snake?”

“You wish Hubie. Nope, you’re a total hedgehog. You’re all prickly on the exterior and all balled up, just to hide your vulnerable soft side,” said Dorothea, still laughing at him.

Hubert frowned, “Well, you’re a poodle.”

Dorothea turned in outrage, “A poodle!”

“Indeed, well groomed, and very frivolous,” explained Hubert. If he had to be a hedgehog then she had to be something equally unflattering. “But loyal, and likely with a vicious bite.”

Dorothea seemed to consider it, “Fine, I suppose I could be a poodle.” They paused to admire their handiwork in the Blue Lion’s completely rearranged homeroom.

For their own room they turned the entire set up 180 degrees and changed all of Ferdinand’s grades to F’s. Dorothea kept giggling and Hubert ended up laughing as he tried to shush her. It was a miracle they were not caught.

When they were finished they passed by the bulletin board and Dorothea paused. “Look, people have changed their responses.” She traced over where people had crossed out their failed matches, or added new ones and admirers.

Hubert ran his fingers through his new haircut and studied the still empty row by his name. Dorothea pulled out her lipstick out of her comically tiny purse and carefully added a notch next to his name, “There, that will have them guessing.” Hubert was glad it was dark so she couldn’t see him blushing with gratitude.

They tried to balance on the edge of the walkway as Hubert walked her back to her room. Dorothea was crying again, but only because she was laughing so hard as Hubert lost his footing and slipped into the bushes.

Petra angrily opened her door, “Some of us are trying to be doing the sleeping.”

Hubert painfully pulled himself out of the shrubbery, and Dorothea apologized about the noise. Dorothea whispered to Hubert after Petra had shut her door again, “That was a lot of fun. We should hang out more. We need to figure out what everyone else’s animals are.”

“I could do without the falling into a bush part,” said Hubert as he rubbed his sore tail bone. He took a deep breath, “Thank you for forcing me to try new things. It was refreshing.”

“Good. Sleep tight Hubie,” smiled Dorothea as she went into her room.

Hubert climbed the stairs to his own room. He leaned in the doorway searching his pockets. His keys were definitely still down in that shrub. It was too dark and he was too drunk to have any hope of finding them so Hubert resigned himself to sleeping in the hallway. He grinned thinking about the things Lorenz and Ferdinand were going to have to say about that.


End file.
